


Little Sunshine

by darcymariaphoster



Series: Learning to Grow Up [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, OT3, mentioned child death, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcymariaphoster/pseuds/darcymariaphoster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Established relationship between Greg, Sherlock, and John*</p><p>It's only been a year. Are they really prepared to contract another fifteen with each other? [Parenting; no m-preg; relationship focus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opportunities in Big Doeses

**Author's Note:**

> I wish you would please read this note.
> 
> So this is an AU in which basically I made them a few years younger and the third season hasn't really happened, though I didn't put much effort into explaining how they got together yet. It's part of a collection that I'm working on for my OT3 and, if I play my cards right, they will all interconnect and explain everything. Pester me for this. Please.
> 
> Also, I made some very big decisions concerning this story and I want to explain those really fast. The first is the child. The reason she went through what she did and is the way she is, is simply that I don't want everyone to focus on this OC. I want this story to be more focused on Sherlock, Greg, and John and their relationship and how being parents changes the dynamics. That's also why there is only ONE child. Apologies for vagueness. I didn't want to delve into that quite yet. Perhaps in another story I will have Greg's full feelings on the matter and how things worked with the three. 
> 
> The second thing is I didn't want to take away from some of the canon things. Greg is still a DI and John is a doctor and Sherlock is, well, Sherlock. I know that Greg and John chose their careers and they are important so I didn't want to deprive them of those careers. 
> 
> Another small note is that I had trouble with flow so I apologize if it gets choppy. Every time I put dialogue in, I felt like it screwed it all up a bit and dragged but I felt it was important at the same time and I was very conflicted. But it was so long, I was too afraid to edit too much in fear of completely botching everything. Bear with me; point things out I might have not been consistent in and, as always, tell me what you think -- even if it isn't nice because that helps me improve. :) 
> 
> Thank-you for poking your head in on this story and, please, enjoy!!

It was maybe two in the afternoon. Lestrade had the day off and John had gotten an earlier shift, getting home about thirty minutes prior. Sherlock was huddled over a pile of books, researching god knows what. It was quiet and comfortable, a late April warmth seeping into the flat of 221B. John got up for his second cup of tea when there was a knock on the door downstairs. He paused to listen to Mrs Hudson talk to whoever was there. He wondered vaguely if it was someone for Sherlock with a case, until Mrs Hudson crushed the idea with, “Gregory, it’s for you!” Lestrade groaned, obviously thinking his plot of leaving his phone in their bedroom was foiled and it was someone from the Yard coming to get him. He set his novel aside and got up, hurrying downstairs to tell whoever it was off. However, the person standing there caused him to come up short.

 

Lestrade didn’t talk about his family very much and the main reason for this was he knew that he had made a few mistakes in his life that he didn’t like telling people about. One of them was his ex-wife. It wasn’t unknown that he had one and that differences had caused them to split. What _wasn’t_ known was what differences. John and Sherlock knew he had kids but didn’t hear much about them; part of that was because Lestrade didn’t get to hear much of them.

 

Today, he realized, was going to be the end of all that. In front of him was his ex-wife’s sister, Carmen, standing with one hand rested on a small head peeking around her leg. He cleared his throat and softly asked, “Mrs Hudson, could you maybe give us a moment?” Seeming to understand that this was a big deal, she scuttled quickly away. He stepped over to the door and looked at Carmen hesitantly.

 

“I don’t mean to bring this on you so suddenly,” she hurried to say in a quiet voice. “But please hear me out before you get up in arms. I don’t trust her with Emily anymore. She’s not in her right mind. I would take her but she doesn’t get along well with my kids. I’ll help you with any legal negotiations. Just… Please, Greg. Things are getting out of hand and I worry about Em.” Emily was the little girl hiding behind her aunt’s legs, peering silently up at her father with wide brown eyes. “I have all her things and there’s some papers…”

 

Lestrade raised a hand to stop her, a bit overwhelmed as he stared at the two. “Wait. Start over. And where’s Joey?” he inquired after a moment. He hadn’t talked to his ex in four years and she had definitely failed to inform of some very important things.

 

This time, Carmen hesitated. “Could we come in? Or go somewhere to talk?”

 

***

 

Sherlock watched out the window as Lestrade shuffled down the sidewalk with a woman and a child he did not recognize and scrunched his nose. “Who are those people? Why didn’t he tell us he was stepping out?”

 

John looked up from his computer with the beginning of an eye roll. “Sherlock, it might have been a surprise visit from some friends or something. He’ll be back. Don’t worry.” He turned his eyes back to the screen and grunted, rubbing them instead. “Don’t think too much into it. For once.”

 

“It’s concerning, John,” Sherlock pressed, turning to look his partner over. “There was a _child_ with them. What if that’s his ex-wife? There could be more of this story that he’s not telling us.”

 

The blond looked up, a bit startled to realize that Sherlock was worried about not only Lestrade’s safety but also what it would mean for their relationship if it really was his ex-wife stepping back into his life. John paused and set his laptop aside, standing up to walk over to Sherlock. “I said not to worry… He isn’t going to just walk away. He’s just as invested in this as we are.” It had only been a year, so of course Sherlock was going to worry. He rubbed his shoulders lightly. “Can I interest you in a cup of tea?”

 

The brunette shook his head. “I’m not worried. _Honestly_ , John.” He crossed his arms and went back to staring out the window.

 

***

 

Three hours later, Lestrade stepped through the door into 221B again with two bags over his shoulders and a little girl’s hand in his. Sherlock stiffened when the door opened but otherwise did not show that he knew the two had walked in. John poked his head out of the kitchen. “Just started dinner.” He glanced at the girl and hesitated. “I hope she’s not picky…”

 

“Shouldn’t be that bad…” Lestrade told him with a weak smile as he led her over to John. “This is Emily. My daughter. I...need to take care of her for a bit…”

 

Sherlock piped up from his spot on the couch. “And by ‘bit’, he means ‘years’. Just so there’s no confusion on that.” Both John and Lestrade rolled their eyes but were pleasantly surprised when he wandered over and stared down at the girl. “Why do _you_ have to now?”

 

Lestrade huffed slightly, “Her mother is no longer capable of taking care of her. So… I guess I’m the next best thing. It’s not even her decision anymore. It’s her sister’s; that’s how bad it’s gotten. If you guys aren’t up to it, that’s okay…I…”

 

John wanted to say that there was no decision that had to be made, that he and Sherlock would simply accept the child in. But he knew better than that. Sherlock had never done particularly well around kids and John wasn’t sure he wanted to take care of any. He knew that Lestrade was going to be just as at a loss, though. He looked at Sherlock and then carefully said, “Greg, we might try it for awhile.” That’s all he _could_ say with the little girl still standing there.

 

The look of relief on Lestrade’s face made him feel better as he muttered, “Thank-you…”

 

“Of course,” John replied and looked down at Emily with a smile. “Do you like to cook?” She considered it a moment and then nodded, squeezing her dad’s hand tighter. “Would you like to help me?” He watched in amusement as she thought it over carefully and then glanced at her dad before letting go and reaching for John.

 

“She won’t talk much,” Lestrade told him as the blond scooped her up and set her on the counter with a soft grunt. “Went through something pretty traumatic and keeps pretty quiet now…”

  
“That’s okay,” John replied distractedly as he handed Emily a spoon. “We’ll manage, huh?” She smiled at him and nodded determinedly. “With help, I’ll have dinner out in an hour. Everyone out so I have room to cook in this tiny little thing.” Lestrade chuckled softly and headed upstairs to set up the bedroom before he broke down completely.


	2. Little Monsters

“So what happened?” It was about an hour and a half after dinner and the television was running on some cartoon they had managed to find for Emily, who was sitting in the living room silently. The three adults sat around the kitchen table, talking in hushed tones. It had been John who had been the one brave enough to ask the question.

 

Lestrade sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair and looking exhausted. “Well, about a year ago, my ex-wife got into some sort of pain medication addiction and six months ago… Emily and Joey, my son, were outside playing. There was a reckless driver who came through the neighborhood and hit my son. My ex didn’t come outside and realize what happened until Emily ran inside screaming. She’s been staying with my ex’s sister but I guess the kids aren’t getting along and so she wants me to take Emily.”

 

There was a heavy moment of silence and John took Lestrade’s hand, squeezing tightly. The expression on his face was a combination of being in pain and seeming so overwhelmed. Neither John nor Sherlock quite knew what to say. “Listen, I know that what I’m asking is a huge thing,” Lestrade continued, deciding to plunge in. “So if you two aren’t comfortable with the idea of having her here, that’s okay. I can go elsewhere until I figure out what to do. I just… I don’t want to lose either of you. Yeah, she’s my daughter but getting to see her for just a few days would be more than enough time, considering I never thought I’d get to see her again. I don’t want to jump in and I don’t want to put us in jeopardy.”

 

John had to cut him off by putting his hand over his mouth, slightly stunned. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you’d be perfectly willing to choose between us and your daughter? That’s not fair to you.”

 

“If it’s what has to be done, then that’s okay,” Lestrade said when he was allowed speech again. “I don’t _want_ to choose. I’d like to have it all. But if that’s not an option, I don’t want to lose you guys. You’re my makeshift family and I’d never trade that, not even for this once in a lifetime opportunity with Emily. That’s how I feel and I’ve made my decision on that.”

 

Sherlock, who had been silent the entire time, decided that it was a good time to say something and softly suggested, “We can try it. I can’t be the only one who thought we’d eventually want to expand on our family unit. Granted, I didn’t think it would be so _soon_ but why look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, it would show us whether or not we can continue to function in a relationship; I heard kids did that to families.” He looked at his partners hesitantly, unsure if he had made the right decision to say something at that moment.

 

John rubbed his eyes and rested his chin in his hands. “It would be easier if we had had more time to consider this. Or experimented on one of those cry-eat-poop baby dolls. This is a very real child, Sherlock. And while it’s not a _bad_ idea, I worry about her mental and psychological health. I don’t want her to get comfortable just for us to find out we can handle her. That isn’t fair to her.” Sherlock deflated slightly and tapped his fingers on the table. “Greg… Do you think your sister-in-law could take Emily for a week or two while we think about this? Just to give us some time to get through all the pros and cons and, if we decide to take her, get this place ready for her.”

 

Lestrade nodded and stood up, taking out his phone to call Carmen. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be right back.” He stepped into the hall to call her.

 

Sherlock peered into the living room where Emily was sitting on the floor, staring up at the television with her head tilted back just a _tad_ bit too far to be considered comfortable. “The person I worry most about concerning mental and psychological health is Lestrade… He barely touched on explaining what happened to his son. That can’t be good…” John nodded thoughtfully but before he could respond, Lestrade came back in.

 

“She understood. She’ll come by in the morning to get her,” he explained, sitting back down after a quick glance at the little girl. “She lives in Brixton so it’s a bit of a drive…” He clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

 

John reached over and rested his hand on Lestrade’s arm. “Are you okay? Really?” he inquired quietly.

 

Lestrade looked at him, carefully choosing his words. “I think so. It’s a bit of a lot to take in and I don’t know how to feel about Joey… It’s like my feelings on that are in limbo. I have one of my kids sitting in my flat and it all seems a bit unfair… But I think I’ll be okay…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think it’s all quite hit me yet.”

 

***

 

Later that night, everyone sat in the living room, Emily curled up against Lestrade tiredly. They all had a cup of tea in their hands, each interested in something different and the TV off. Sherlock was back to his books, John was looking something up on his laptop, and Lestrade read quietly from an online children’s book he’d found for his daughter. John poked his side softly and gestured to Emily. He looked down and smiled at her, all curled up and completely dead to the world. “Can you help me wiggle out so I can get her upstairs?” John set his laptop aside and moved to the floor in front of Emily, gently tucking his hand under her head and holding her up so Lestrade could weasel his way out without disturbing her. He closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table before he turned and scooped the little girl up. “I’ll be right back down.” He carried her to the upstairs bedroom and tucked her in, hoping to escape without waking her.

 

Sherlock looked up as Lestrade came back and sat down again. It was quiet a moment and then he asked, “She didn’t even flinch, did she?”

 

“Not a sound,” Lestrade replied with a grin. “Thank gods. I am ready for bed. Early morning with Carmen coming to get her and I have to go to the Yard at some point…” He stretched out, not really wanting to get up again.

 

“That actually sounds really nice…” John muttered, standing up and popping his shoulder with a roll of the joint. “I’ll join you. You gonna come, Sherlock?”

  
The brunette snorted. “Not so early. I’ll be there later.” They all said their goodnights and kissed Sherlock sweetly before John and Lestrade headed to bed. 

***

Sherlock looked up at the sound of soft footsteps on the stairs. He glanced at the clock; 1 in the morning, two hours after everyone else had gone to bed. He frowned and stood up, meeting Emily at the bottom of the stairs. She looked up at him with wide eyes, one hand clutching at the railing. “What are you doing up?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

He wasn’t actually expecting a response so when he heard a quiet, “Monsters,” come from her lips, he was rather surprised. He scratched the side of his head, unsure how to respond. She seemed to think that he hadn’t heard her and tried a bit louder, “Monsters.”

 

He realized she needed a response and thought of something quickly. “There are monsters?” he inquired gently and hummed. “I have an idea. Wait there a moment.” He turned and went to the kitchen, pulling open a drawer that held all the knick knacks and junk they were all too lazy to put away. He shuffled through it all until he produced a small flashlight. With a slightly triumphant smile, he snagged it and headed back to Emily, scooping her up in one arm. “I’m going to show you how to get rid of those pesky monsters.”

 

Emily studied his face cautiously. She had so far only spent a few hours with John and Lestrade and had only _seen_ Sherlock, hearing his voice on occasion. His tall form and dark hair and eyes were a bit intimidating but his arm around her waist made her feel secure. “Okay,” she whispered finally.

 

They stepped into her room and Sherlock set her on her bed, feet dangling over the edge. He knelt in front of her and put the flashlight up between them. The room really was very dark and he didn’t like that; it was not conducive to a good night’s sleep for a young girl. “This is important information, Emily, so listen carefully.” She nodded determinedly, eyes on his face. “Monsters are afraid of the light. They get scared and run away. That’s why I am giving you this weapon. You can turn it on and shine it into any shadow that scares you and the monsters will run away.”

 

“Forever?” she asked uncertainly, reaching for the flashlight.

 

“Forever,” he promised, handing it to her. “Others might come and try to take their place but you just shine that light at them and eventually, they’ll be too scared to come into this room at all. Okay?” She nodded again and hugged the flashlight close. Sherlock stood and surveyed the room. “Alright, you monsters, she has a Light and that means she’s going to scare you away. You can leave now or be scared but I don’t want to see _any_ monsters in her room tomorrow morning. This is the only warning you get.” He looked back down at Emily and smiled slightly. “You’ll be safe. I promise. Go to sleep.”

  
She lied down, pulling the covers over her and clutching the flashlight tightly in one little fist. “Okay. Night night.” He adjusted the blankets and patted her side before quietly leaving the room, hoping that she would be able to sleep better. As he descended the stairs, he saw a quick flash of light and a quiet, “No” and smiled softly.

***

“We need names,” Sherlock mumbled into the darkness, stirring his partners out of the beginnings of sleep. “You know how kids refer to their parents as ‘mum’ and ‘dad’. She’s got _three dads_. We need names for her to call us by.”

 

John pulled the blankets over his face with a groan. “Only you would think of this at two in the morning…” It was a week later. The decision had yet to be formally made but they all knew which side of the fence they were leaning toward.

 

“He’s got a point,” Lestrade muttered, sounding far too awake for the blond’s liking. “There’s a lot to think about, too. If we took this on, we all have work and that won’t help us very much…”

 

The silence bothered all three of them after that, all too aware of the facts that the situation would bring on if they decided to take in Emily. “That’s not completely true,” Sherlock piped up suddenly. “I don’t technically work. I can do most of my cases from home…” Both his partners turned to look at him, startled. “What? It’s true. The Work is very important but…” He hesitated, wondering if he was ready for what he was about to say before he plunged on. “But I am invested in this, whatever we have. And if we were to welcome her into our family, I would make it my personal goal to make sure that all her skills were refined and she were safe. It’s only two years before she can go into daycare and I can take on more cases. Call it a formal apology.”

 

Lestrade snorted and rubbed his face. “You do realize what raising a child entails, right, Sherlock?”

 

John piped up then with, “It’s a lot. It’s all the tantrums, losing teeth, making and losing friends, bullies or bullying, schoolwork, puberty, boyfriends or girlfriends, the sex talk, teenage sass, rebellion, medical bills… Oh the medical bills…”

 

“And do you really think you can handle taking care of a child during the day alone?” Lestrade asked, slowly finding the idea increasingly alarming.

 

“It can’t be that hard,” Sherlock sighed, sounding exasperated. “It’s just feeding, getting her to nap, playing with her, setting the TV when I need a moment. It sounds easy. An experiment.”

  
There was another short silence and John muttered, “If you say so…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually mention it but there's references in the next few chapters so I'll go ahead and tell you what they decided: Greg would be called Father, John would be Dad (Daddy), and Sherlock would be Papa.
> 
> I also didn't like how short the other chapter was so I divided them differently and decided that there weren't going to be as many chapters as I'd originally anticipated. Oops? Oh well. 
> 
> Please tell me what you think so far! :D


	3. Schedule It In

At six in the morning, a week later, John rolled over to find the bed empty and the shower running. He stretched out before getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. Groggily, he headed out to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He paused when he heard soft giggling and some obscure cartoon playing on the television. He poked his head out and saw Sherlock sprawled on the couch, Emily sitting on his stomach contentedly as she watched TV, and his laptop precariously balanced on his chest as he scrolled through something. “Good morning, you two,” John tried, smiling at the sight.

 

Emily looked up at him and smiled shyly, waving. “Good morning, John,” Sherlock grumbled from beneath the girl. “I hope you don’t mind but I gave her some of your cereal. She was hungry and it was easiest to get to.”     

 

John rolled his eyes. “At least you remembered to feed her; I can’t complain.” He wandered into the kitchen. “Want tea?”

 

“No, thank-you,” Sherlock answered distractedly.

 

Lestrade came in as the water came to a boil and John pulled down a second cup. “G’morning, all,” he yawned and wrapped the blonde in his arms from behind. “Got a cup of that for me?”

 

“Of course I do,” John replied, smiling up at him. “Sort of. I haven’t gotten them ready yet.” Lestrade shrugged and went in search of a breakfast. “And you can have some of my cereal, or rather, that’s your only choice besides eggs and toast.”

 

“I really hate this,” Lestrade muttered moodily, getting the box down from where it had been shoved back haphazardly. “When does it end?” John had demanded that everyone cut their sugar intake after a slight scare earlier in the year when Lestrade’s blood sugar had skyrocketed. The only one still really complaining was, of course, Lestrade.

 

John huffed, watching him. “It doesn’t. I’ll only make it worse for you if you keep whining.” He ignored the following grumbles of disdain as Emily tottered into the kitchen with an empty bowl. “Still hungry?”

 

She attempted to put the bowl into the sink and beamed up at John when he assisted her. “More,” she chirped happily. For everything that Lestrade had said about her, she was a very cheerful girl.

 

“More what? More cereal?” John inquired, reaching for the bowl again. “We shouldn’t put dishes we’re going to use again into the sink then…”

 

“No,” she said, waving her hands to make him stop moving. “No more. Food.” She waddled to the fridge and tried to open it, whining in frustration when it didn’t budge. Lestrade chuckled from his seat at the table, watching her. “Juice ‘nd food.”

 

John huffed and pulled the fridge door open, wishing he’d had just a moment more to have his tea before facing the day’s challenges. “What food?” She studied what contents she could see carefully before tugging at the grapes, pulling them from their shelf without knocking anything else down. “Alright… Apple juice and grapes it is.” He grabbed the container of juice and accepted the grapes and set to work. She wandered back into the sitting room, kneeling in front of the coffee table.

 

“So, Sherlock,” Lestrade called casually, flipping open his newspaper. “What fascinating thing have you found this morning?”

 

There was a disgruntled sound followed by, “I am conducting further research on a matter relevant to this family’s health.” He ignored the groan from the kitchen table as John brought Emily her juice and fruit. “It’s quite interesting…”

 

“What sort of health issues are you looking into?” John inquired, going back to the kitchen to finish preparing the tea. “Anything in particular?” He did not get a response this time and gave Lestrade a questioning look. “Well, in any case, I’ve got a later shift today. Someone called in because of an emergency at home. I’ll be covering a twelve to ten shift. Just so you’re all aware.”

 

Lestrade finished his cereal and started on his tea that was kindly traded for the bowl. “I’m hoping to be off by six but there’s no promise of that. It would be nice just to have a day of paperwork; there’s a lot to catch up on.” He shrugged and glanced at the paper again. “I have to be headed out soon…”

 

“When are your next days off?” Sherlock asked, shutting his laptop and sitting up.

 

“Monday and Friday,” John answered as Greg replied, “Wednesday and Friday, if I’m lucky enough.” Sherlock hummed thoughtfully and looked down at Emily who was watching her cartoons intently and munching on the green grapes. “Don’t forget your lunches,” was all he muttered in the end.

 

***

 

Sherlock taped the paper to the freezer door, aware that he would not forget a word on it but he did not have so much faith in his partners. Once he was sure it was secure and centered _just so_ , he gathered up his pen and paper and opened the fridge door. It was a tedious but necessary task, cataloging what they still had left on the shelves and in the drawers. When he was finished, he started sifting through leftover containers and threw away the vast majority of them. The fridge looked much barer and he felt a slight surge of pride as he began to catalog the contents of the freezer.

 

Emily woke from her nap and came into the kitchen just as he finished writing his list out. He stood and got her cup from the fridge, still mostly full of apple juice from before her nap. He handed it to her and helped her sit at the table, giving her a pencil and a piece of paper to color on as she woke up fully and he could categorize the importance of each item on his list. He had done extensive research over the past few days and he was eager to apply what he had learned into his family’s daily lives. “How awake do you feel?” he asked when he was finished, looking at his little girl. She thought a moment and then gave him a thumbs-up. “Right. Let’s get your hair brushed then and set out. We have two hours before I have to start dinner.”

 

She picked up her paper and showed it to him, her expression implying that it was important and he nodded seriously, standing and scooping her up. He took her to the bathroom and brushed out the snarls of sleep as gently as he could manage. After changing her diaper, he helped her into her shoes and grabbed the diaper bag he had prepared earlier and his wallet. She took his hand obediently and he snagged the keys off the table in the walkway to the front door before they went downstairs and outside. For only being three, she did a fair job at the stairs, relying mainly on the support of Sherlock. They stood by the curb, Emily mimicking his movements as he hailed a cab.

 

It was the first time Sherlock was willingly going shopping and taking his new daughter with him was causing more anxiety than he would ever admit. He checked to make sure he’d remembered the list and that Emily was buckled in properly, mentally still very upset that the carseat he had ordered had yet to arrive. It was probably for the best, though, as there were a lot of groceries that would need to be hauled inside and something that bulky would have most likely been left behind anyway. When they arrived at the shop, Sherlock carried Emily inside, setting her in the seat of a cart along with the diaper bag before pulling out the list and heading into the store. He immediately had his doubts, pausing just inside the doorway and surveying the area around him. Perhaps he should have waited for one of Greg or John’s days off so they could help him.

 

“Papa,” Emily chirped happily, pulling at his sleeve to catch his attention. He looked down at her and smiled softly when she showed him her paper from earlier, the same air of importance present with her gesture. He patted her head and glanced at his list, starting off determinedly. “We can do this,” he muttered to her softly. “It’s just a bit of shopping. Besides, I’m the one feeding you and I need to know what’s going into that tiny stomach of yours anyway. It would _not_ be appropriate for your father or dad to do the shopping.” She nodded to his words and looked at her paper, babbling quietly.

 

It took an hour and a half to finish the shopping and get to the checkout, making for a very grumpy Emily who was tired of sitting. He couldn’t blame her, really; he was annoyed at how long it had taken but he hadn’t known the store well at all and had done his best. He had only had to rely on three different employees to find the soap and the juices and harassed one employee in produce about why they should have a bigger organic section. As a treat, Sherlock had snagged some gummy bears from the natural selection of candy for Emily because she had put up with so much.

 

She was happier when she had the candy in her hands on their way home. “Not too bad…” he grumbled aloud as he pouted beside her. She cheerfully told him something in her little made-up language and he gave her what he hoped were appropriate responses. Getting everything into the flat in two trips -- including Emily -- was his greatest achievement of the day. He closed the door to the flat and started unloading things into cabinets and the fridge and freezer after turning a movie on for Emily. He had just started dinner when John came home, stepping into the flat cautiously. “It smells... _good_ in here. And not take-away good…” he said aloud.

 

“Daddy!” Emily cried, hopping up and hurrying over to him, hugging his legs as she assumedly told him about her day. He picked her up, listening with rapt attention as he maneuvered into the kitchen. “What are you making?” he inquired, peering at the stove.

 

Sherlock shooed him away. “Dinner. Go finish the movie with Emily.” John huffed but complied, ending up deep in conversation with their daughter. Sherlock finished setting out the food as Greg came in, looking around suspiciously. “Ready,” was the only greeting he got from the kitchen.

 

John stood up, swinging a giggling Emily into his arms. They all wandered in and sat down, amazed and impressed by the meal made. “So what’s the occasion?” Greg finally asked as everyone finished eating. Even their little girl had cleared most of her plate.

 

“No occasion,” Sherlock answered confidently. “The idea is to have a dinner like this five times a week, a leftover night once, and a sandwich night on the seventh. It’s important that Emily has three meals a day and it would be nice if the last were a family meal when possible.” He received blank stares from his partners and sniffed indignantly. “This is an entirely organic meal, by the way.”

 

“It is?” Greg mumbled, sounding both surprised and betrayed at the same time as he looked at his plate.

 

John cleared his throat softly. “Well, that’s going to be quite a task…” he managed, pleasantly surprised. “So you did shopping today?”

 

Sherlock sat up a bit straighter, pride very obvious in the movement. “Emily and I did the shopping, yes. It was tedious and I hope to only do it once a month. I did not enjoy it but it was necessary.”

 

“Congrats, mate,” Greg said with a grin. “I’m a bit shocked you managed to get it all done alone. Did you remember the milk?”

 

The look of smugness on Sherlock’s face was only mildly alarming. “Organic two percent, yes. Everything from here on out is organic or natural and very low, if not entirely lacking, in sugar. It’s mainly for Emily’s benefit but I thought we could all enjoy it together. It will help you both lose weight and be more alert at work.”

 

John did not take the jibe as personally at Greg who stabbed at his food rather violently. “What brought this on, may I ask?” The blonde turned a bit more to face the still smug brunette.

 

“It was part of my research. I found that sugar is highly addictive and causes slowness in children’s brains,” Sherlock explained proudly. “So I wanted to omit it. Also, there is an alarming amount of chemicals and preservatives in food that is not organic and I decided to make the switch to benefit everyone in the house. There are other changes that will occur during the day, as well. They are all listed with very precise times on the freezer door, all according to the average time that Emily gets up in the morning. I expect it to be followed exactly on your days off. Deviating from it will form bad habits and I will also be considered the strict parent. I don’t want ‘good’ and ‘bad’ to be associated with any of us individually so I advise that you please follow my instruction. Unless I find that this does not work, in which case I will keep you updated.”

 

While John stared at him, trying to keep his mouth shut, Greg’s eyes were on the very chaotic looking sheet on the freezer door. “Does that say what I think it does by Emily’s nap time slot? You really thought this out…”

 

“It’s an experiment of sorts.” Sherlock’s voice had gotten less stern and more uncertain. “It seems the popular opinion that children need schedules to keep them from becoming unruly. Of course, I tried not to go to the extreme of some parents; the last thing I would desire is for her to lash out in her teenage years…”

 

Greg laughed softly and turned back to Sherlock. “It’s nice to know that you’re taking this so seriously, Sherlock. I don’t have much of a problem with this schedule thing. I mean, you’re with her all day; you’d probably know what works for her best by now. Or will in about a month. Just help us out until we get the swing of it. And try to keep impatience with us to a minimum; we won’t be home as much as you so it’ll take us a bit to get the idea.” Sherlock nodded seriously, his expression suggesting he already knew this response.

  
“But once we _do_ get it, our days off mean it’s your day off,” John added sternly. “Since your work will be taking care of Emily, your days off will be when Greg or I can take over. I think that’s a fair trade off.” Greg nodded distractedly, eyeing the last broccoli flower on his plate with a new dislike. Sherlock considered it carefully, seeming a bit uncertain, before agreeing. “I’ll take dish duty tonight, I suppose. I was off longest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that there will be a few oneshots based off of this idea alone... XD Whoops. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for paying attention to this story! :D I hope you all keep enjoying it! Two more chapters left. Please let me know what you think~!


	4. Small Winnings

It was Greg and John’s first day off since the schedule had started at home. Emily had responded nicely to it, catching on quicker than Sherlock could have hoped. But now he was nervous. He wasn’t sure that his partners had understood everything that he had explained to them as their previous days off, attempting to care for Emily alone, had been a bit chaotic and very frustrating. The only hope he had was that they had talked to each other about their experiences and had seemed a bit more attentive last night when he went over everything again. It wasn’t difficult, not really. He had the schedule posted on the freezer still with little notes taped here and there for things they had had a hard time with previously. She didn’t have any food allergies -- thank god, because he wasn’t sure Greg’s memory would hold up to that -- and was only picky when it came to vegetables so that made Sherlock’s confidence rise a little.

 

At exactly six-thirty in the morning, Emily tottered into their bedroom and climbed onto the foot of the bed, effectively waking Greg and Sherlock while John slumbered on. The two didn’t particularly mind letting him sleep as he’d had a later shift the night before. With a sleepy sigh, Greg stretched and rolled out of bed to use the restroom before he started on breakfast. Emily crawled over to Sherlock and cuddled up next to him, poking his side to keep him awake. She wasn’t one to talk much and for that he was grateful. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t have other ways of being annoying.

 

Slightly irritated, Sherlock moved Emily until he could carefully stand her on her feet on the floor before he climbed out of bed. Taking her hand, he headed into the kitchen to sit her at the table. Greg had started on breakfast and seemed little more cheerful than a cactus on it’s last legs before rainfall. He smirked, amused. “Good morning,” he said mockingly and got an annoyed grunt in response. He handed Emily her picture book as he sat down and opened his own book, the one he’d been attempting to study during her nap times. She hummed and “ha”ed at the pictures, mimicking her father’s responses to the morning newspapers.

 

Greg set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Emily and she very nicely set her book aside to eat. He offered some to Sherlock who refused food and then sat down with food of his own and a cup of coffee after a moment. The table was quiet and peaceful and was only interrupted with soft “good morning”s as John came in and fixed himself a cup of tea and a piece of toast. When Emily was finished, she put her plate in the sink with a loud clatter that made John flinch horribly, before she waddled over to Sherlock and demanded that she sit in his lap while the others finished eating.    

 

“How well do you think they’ll do?” Sherlock whispered in her ear as she settled in his lap. “Do you think they’ll make it through the day?” She hummed and shook her head. “I don’t think so either…”

 

Greg shot him a weak glare. “Watch it, you two. We can be fun, ya know.” Sherlock snorted in amusement and Emily huffed her discontentment at the sharp movement that moved her a bit closer to the table. “Piss off.” John kicked him under the table. “Sorry.”

 

John looked at Sherlock and attempted to make his expression more stern. “Now listen, you. We are perfectly capable of doing this so don’t torment us.” The brunette still seemed pretty amused and John did his best not to let that get to him.

 

***

 

Lunch was Sherlock’s favorite event of the day, he decided a month later. Greg and John had done a fairly decent job at adapting to the schedule and Emily did a wonderful job of pointing out when they screwed up. But, for some reason, both his partners seemed to have a terrible time dealing with lunch. If it wasn’t forgetting about if for a full half hour, it was arguing with Emily about why she couldn’t have just a snack and getting her to eat whatever they made her. Sherlock had made a very detailed chart of each meal that was to be made but that didn’t mean little Emily would eat it without complaining. It was a daily struggle for Sherlock but his partners just somehow made it into a bigger deal than was necessary and that was why it was his favorite event.

 

Today’s meal was _supposed_ to be macaroni and cheese with apples but Emily was very frustrated that Sherlock wasn’t making it because her father just “didn’t do it right”. To be fair, Sherlock had offered to help him but Greg was adamant that there was no right or wrong way to make it. And spent ten minutes trying to convince Emily of this as he started prepping it. In the end, Sherlock took over for him and showed him how he did it, if for nothing else than to ease their daughter’s mind. Greg was sure he’d made it the same all his life.

 

“You have to measure it just so because if you don’t, it will be soggy and too thick and she won’t eat it,” Sherlock explained patiently, watching him dish up a small bowl. “I tried to eye it once but had to remake it because she said it wasn’t right… I measure everything now.”

 

Greg set the bowl in front of Emily with a spoon and eyed Sherlock critically. “I thought you’d treat cooking like chemistry, honestly…”

 

“I do know how to cook, Greg,” the brunette huffed, obviously a bit offended. “And, no, I do not want any macaroni but I will take some apple.” He snagged a few slices and sat down, attempting to be a good example by eating in the kitchen when all he really wanted to do was sprawl on the couch.

 

Greg sat down in his usual spot at the table with his own plate of macaroni and apples. “I never doubted your cooking abilities, Sherlock. I just didn’t know you didn’t use every precaution when doing so.”

 

Sherlock sighed wearily. “Baking requires the precision of a chemist, not _cooking_. There is a difference and it concerns me that you are so willing to use the term ‘cooking’ to cover everything that happens in the kitchen. There are plenty of things that happen in here that do not fall under that category.” The look he got gave him a little sense of pride in his ability to still be able to piss off Greg.

 

“I don’t normally do either and it’s apparently a good thing I don’t,” the DI huffed irritably, focusing on his food. “ _Honestly_ , Sherlock. _Timing_.”

 

Emily, who had been listening in amusement as she ate her pasta, smiled up at them. “‘s good, Father,” she informed Greg cheerfully, as if this would solve whatever argument they were having.

 

Greg practically melted and Sherlock hid his smile behind his hand. “Thanks, Em,” he replied, patting her head gently. “I’m glad _someone_ appreciates my efforts.” The brunette rolled his eyes and finished off his second apple slice.

 

“I’d appreciate your efforts more if you remembered what happens after lunch,” Sherlock muttered, wondering if he wanted the last slice he had gathered up.

 

“I know exactly what happens after lunch,” Greg snapped with a bit more force than he’d originally anticipated. “It’s reading time and then naptime. I got this, Sherlock, really. No need to hover. Go take a nap or something.” Sherlock gave him a withering look and bit into the apple slice. “ _Or something._ ”

 

“Sleep is boring,” Sherlock hummed as he stood. “The only reason I do it at night is because I get something out of it. But reading does sound nice…” He wandered off quietly, snagging a book off the shelf as he went.

 

Greg sighed and looked at Emily. “He drives me crazy sometimes.” She nodded seriously and shoved another bite of pasta into her mouth.

 

***

 

When John got home that night, Emily was watching Greg’s mouth as he spelled “loud” out for her. Her eyes were wide, lips barely moving. He’d just walked in on study-time. That was normal, yes, and he smiled as the little girl slapped her hands playfully onto Greg’s cheeks, giggling softly. But the odd thing was, there was no Sherlock around to make sure that study-time was being done right. He looked around, peeking into the kitchen, though he knew he was home too early for Sherlock to be making a meal. “Where’s Sher?” John asked, leaning over the back of his chair casually. Emily glanced back at him over her shoulder, grinning broadly and babbling excitedly.

 

“Bedroom,” Greg answered distractedly. “Been there since around lunchtime. Said he was reading and I haven’t had a chance to check on him yet.” He peered up at the clock on the wall. “But he has been there for a ridiculous amount of time… He should be up to pester us about dinner in an hour…”

 

John frowned worriedly and disappeared down the hall, stepping into the bedroom at the end. “Sherlock?” he whispered uncertainly at the figure sprawled on the bed. He tiptoed over to the side, a sneaking suspicion worming its way into his mind. He peeled back the covers and smiled, seeing the brunette curled up and fast asleep, the book he probably _had_ been reading just brushing his fingertips on the mattress beside him. He brushed his unruly curls back and tucked the covers up again. He went back out and rolled his eyes, seeing his other partner and daughter in some sort of tickling match on the ground. “You two are utterly ridiculous.”

 

“Aren’t we?” Greg laughed, tipping his head back to look at him. “Is he all right?” He tried to appear more concerned, even as Emily expertly tickled his side.

 

“Yes,” John replied, amused. “Fast asleep. This seems to be wearing him out more than he’s willing to admit. He’s _supposed_ to have all the energy in the world, our little consulting detective. I’ll do dinner tonight, yeah?”

 

Greg nodded. “He’s only twenty-five; lack of sleep should be normal and more so for his line of work.” But he obviously wasn’t worried. “Guess she just has too much energy for him.” He gasped as she caught his tickle-spot and bust up, squirming away.

  
John chuckled, shaking his head. “You _two_!” He crossed his arms and playfully refused to help Greg escape. The idea of how much his life was changing passed over his mind for a moment and he felt himself melt a bit. He was glad Sherlock had convinced them that taking Emily in was a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I picked lunch to be the favorite event but it fit. I enjoyed this one. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos!! :D I hope I don't disappoint!


	5. Great Gestures

Sherlock was curled up on the far side of the couch, scrolling through something on his laptop. Greg was trying to enthusiastically, but quietly, watch his rugby game while John read a novel he had recently purchased. It felt like a rather normal night in their home. Greg and John were relaxing after long days at work and Sherlock was winding down after a rather exhausting day with Emily. He was a bit perplexed at the amount of tantrums that had been thrown within a few short hours. Truth be told, he was very tired and grateful that he would have a day off soon.

 

John looked up after about a half hour of quiet and asked, “When was that doctor's appointment again?”

 

Instantly, Sherlock answered, “Thursday,” without looking up. Then he gave a tired sigh and snapped his laptop shut. “I’m going to lay down.” He stood and gave each of his partners a short kiss before going to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

 

Greg glanced at John with a frown. It had been nine days since either John or him had had a day off and that meant Sherlock had been up and going from six in the morning until eleven or twelve at night for that same amount of time. The main reason he stayed up so late, they all knew, even if Sherlock wouldn’t admit it, was so that he could spend time with his partners and not be interrupted by little Emily. John glanced up at the time; it was only nine-thirty. He closed his book and set it on the coffee table as Greg turned off the television.

 

After they all took turns using the bathroom, they all climbed into bed. Normally, Greg took the middle as he was most comfortable there. But that night, they tucked Sherlock between them and cuddled in close. A small whine escaped the brunette’s lips, obviously not too thrilled to be the center of attention at that moment. “Hey,” Greg murmured softly, resting one hand on his shoulder and rubbing small circles into it. “We love you. And I, for one, am very impressed with the amount of work you’ve been putting into things here. I really appreciate it, Sherlock, more than I can say. I’m sorry this past week has been so hard.”

 

Sherlock slowly relaxed as John rubbed his stomach soothingly. “I think she’s irritated that you aren’t home more. She’s easier to deal with when it’s four or five days with me and one with either of you or if you come home before dinner. You underestimate how important both your presences are here. To both Emily and I… I’m not used to not being able to come pester you when I feel like it. It’s putting me in a foul mood.”

 

“So we’ve noticed,” John snickered gently, kissing his shoulder softly. “But we’ll both have two days off after tomorrow. One more day.”

 

Greg reached over and pulled both his partners just a tad closer, smiling. “You know, you did chose to go to bed earlier, though. We have a bit more time together this way, I think. No television or computer or books to distract us from each other. We can catch up and have a bit of fun before we fall asleep, if you’d like.”

 

There was a quiet hum from between them as Sherlock thought about it. “I would rather not talk about today. It wasn’t a very fun one, to be honest. I think I’d like to just skip to the sleeping part.” John gave a sound of surprise and disappointment but snuggled closer. “I’m sorry; did you not want me to be human tonight and sleep for a decent amount of hours for once?”

 

“Stop being a smart-arse,” Greg hissed, pinching his shoulder and successfully getting his hand smacked away. “Go to sleep, then; you’re getting old.”

 

Sherlock gaped at him, absolutely horrified. “I am not! You’re the one who’s almost thirty!” He was bristling and John was shaking with laughter. “This isn’t funny. You need to help with this. I’m not old. You two are old.”

 

“I’m not that old,” Greg whined, deflating considerably. “Thirty is still young. And I still have energy to play. Unlike _you_.”                   

 

“She was throwing tantrums all day!” Sherlock defended instantly. “I’ve been on edge all day. Do you realize how irritating it is to listen to screaming and crying every twenty minutes? And how _exhausting_ it is to have to drag her to her room for naptime when she _clearly_ does not want said nap?” He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. “I’m _tired_ , excuse me.”

 

“Calm down,” John muttered into his shoulder, eyes drooping. “You two are making far too much noise. I know it can be hard sometimes, Sher, especially this week. But if you want sleep, stop making it so impossible. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for you to need to catch up on some sleep. You’re not used to the emotional care of another person for so long; you do plenty of the physical and mental in short bursts. So get some sleep and we can chat a bit in the morning. I love you both.” He paused, seeming to consider his next words and then decidedly added, “Even if you drive me mad.”

 

Sherlock sighed loudly. “For wanting to sleep so badly, John, you sure know how to go on a long speech. Good night.” He rarely said the words and tonight would be no exception. However, he made up for what he lacked in words with gestures. He rolled over and cuddled into Greg, letting John hold him tightly from behind. These were moments he enjoyed more than sitting at the dinner table, talking about their days. Mundane, average things that other couples did bored him and he sought no value from them. It was the silent things, the moments they just let themselves feel and be, that he treasured. He would never admit it and his partners would never say aloud that they understood because it was nicer this way. It was real and it was interesting and, if Emily’s introduction into their unit was any indication, it would never dull. He smiled as he drifted off, content in knowing that his family would help take care of him.

  
Besides, Greg and John kind of owed him in a way. His smile widened a bit as sleep overtook him, sandwiched between the two most important people in his life.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I had it all out, I figured I'd just wrap it up. I admit that this didn't turn out as well as I had originally planned but I'll make it up to you with the others. The last little bit is a hint to connect one of the other stories I intend to write in the near future. 
> 
> I'm impressed with the attention this story has actually gotten, really. I kind of felt like this isn't the greatest work I've ever done but I guess the demand for Greg/Sherlock/John is just as high as I'd anticipated. There needs to be more of these three together. However, I hope that the others in this series will get as much, or more, attention and love. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this story! I'm interested to know what people thought of the portrayal and the idea itself. Thank-you for the kudos and I'll see you all soon! Peace! <3


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